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Power is intoxicating. Everyone loves having the ability to make their decisions into reality — to think "this should be something that happens," and then actually be able to make that thing happen.

It is also dangerous.

And it is especially dangerous when applied to four-year-olds.

Four-year-olds lack the experience to wield power responsibly. They have no idea what to do with it or how to control it.

But they like it.

The dinosaur costume was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. The previous Halloween, which was the first Halloween I could actually remember, my parents had dressed me as a giant crayon, and the whole experience had been really uncomfortable for me.

But being a dinosaur felt natural.

And powerful.

The feeling had been slowly intensifying ever since I put the costume on that morning, and, as I stood there in the middle of the classroom, staring off into the distance in an unresponsive power trance, it finally hit critical mass.

I had to find some way to use it. Any way. Immediately.

The other children screamed and fled. The teacher chased me, yelling at me to stop. But I couldn't stop. I was a mindless juggernaut, a puppet for forces far greater than myself. I had completely lost control of my body.

All I knew was that being a dinosaur felt very different from being a person, and I was doing things that I had never even dreamed of doing before.

Of course, I had always had the ability to do these things — even as a person — but I didn't know that. I'd just assumed that I was unable. As a dinosaur, I didn't have any of those assumptions. It felt like I could do whatever I wanted without fear of repercussions.

The repercussions were also exactly the same as they were before I became a dinosaur.

I just experienced them differently.

My parents had to come pick me up at noon that day. The teacher explained that it must have been all the Halloween candy. "Some kids really can't handle sugar," she said. "It turns them into little monsters."

I suppose it was a reasonable enough conclusion, but it only served as a distraction from the real problem.

The thing about being an unstoppable force is that you can really only enjoy the experience of being one when you have something to bash yourself against. You need to have things trying to stop you so that you can get a better sense of how fast you are going as you smash through them. And whenever I was inside the dinosaur costume, that is the only thing I wanted to do.

The ban on sugar provided a convenient source of resistance. As long as I was not supposed to eat sugar, I could feel powerful by eating it anyway.

I'm sure the correlation started to seem rather strong after a while. I'd find some way to get sugar into myself, and then — drunk on the power of doing something I wasn't supposed to —I would lapse into psychotic monster mode. To any reasonable observer, it would appear as though I was indeed having a reaction to the sugar.

My parents were so confused when the terror sprees continued even after the house had been stripped of sugar. They were sure they had gotten rid of all of it. . . did I have a stash somewhere? Was I eating bugs or something?

They still weren't suspicious of the costume.

I lost weeks in a power-fueled haze. I often found myself inside the costume without even realizing I had put it on. One moment, I would be calmly drawing a picture, and the next I'd be robotically stumbling toward my closet where the dinosaur costume was and putting myself inside it.

It started to happen almost against my will.

Surely my parents made the connection subconsciously long before they became aware of what was really going on. After weeks of chaos, each instance punctuated by the presence of the costume, I have to imagine that the very sight of the thing would have triggered some sort of Pavlovian fear response.

They did figure it out eventually, though.

And the costume was finally taken away from me.

I was infuriated at the injustice of it all. I had become quite dependent on the costume, and it felt like part of my humanity was being forcibly and maliciously stripped away. I cursed my piddling human powers and their uselessness in the situation. If only I could put on the costume . . . just one more time.

But that was the costume's only weakness — it couldn't save itself. I had to watch helplessly as it disappeared inside a trash bag.

There was nothing I could do.

And so my reign of power came to an end, and I slowly learned to live as a person again.

then we spend years of our lives trying to create another dinosaur costume. hopefully we learn, as I think you did, that it was never about the costume, or the sugar, and all about not being powerless.

Hee. My kids are going to be dragons (dinos with wings, so far as they can tell) for Halloween. SO far the 2 year old has been sneaking off to try his on. I can't wait to see what my 4 y.o. does once i finish his.

Remembering an earlier post from maybe over a year ago where you are, as an adult, wearing a dino costume and feeling powerful and able to make friends. I love that this power didn't go away when the magical period of childhood ended.

What would happen if you blogged while wearing a dinosaur costume?

Does it have to be a dinosaur, or are there other powerful creatures? Or other influences based on what the other creatures are? I imagine an ALOT costume would make you a bit expansive. A unicorn might make you misunderstood and elusive? Or magical... and elusive? Or would you cease to exist?

Here i was neglecting myself again and boom here you came to make my wednesday have meaning again. And i was the opposite, my mom fear the moment she didn't hear me make a noise, because i simply came and trash anything XD

Love it. I have a toddler and this is a great glimpse of what may be going on in her mind. This made me laugh so hard. So glad to see you post. I hope you're feeling better and getting the help and support that you need.

Your cartoons seriously make me laugh so damn hard and I don't even know why. Sad little you in your Underoos is quite possibly my all time favorite. Strangely enough, my power suit was a pair of pink stripey Winnie the Pooh feetie pajamas- I was convinced I could jump in slow motion whilst wearing them. So much love for your stories.

This is amazing. For me, it was a Ninja Turtles headband (orange, because Michelangelo was the man) that I had made out of a t-shirt. It was glorious.

Always glad to see a new post. I also think "Depression and a Half: The Horrible Place Where We Only Talk About Depression and Nothing Else" could stand on its own as a separate blog. I'd totally read it. Though you might have trouble getting new readers past the title...

I'm so happy that you have returned that I don't even have a valid comment to comment with. So hi. Also YAAAAYY. I really hope I can buy your book. I am so ready for this book. I was born ready. Ok.... bye then

Wonderful, wonderful. Totally love your blog, been reading for years. This is the first comment, though. What you describe is pretty much how it was for me when I first joined a rock band. The stage was the place where I could be a dinosaur/monster, and it could be why I don't do it anymore. Please keep doing what you are doing, providing laughs, thoughts, and commentary on life. I love you!!!!

You have made my day, my week & my whole month. I can't even decide what is funnier...the pictures or the writing. Thank you! I am so glad that you are back. Please write more about depression when you are feeling like it. Oddly enough it helps me to understand my friends that are suffering from it. Prior to your blog I could only smile & nod, but now ... well, I can sort of understand their plight. Thank you for that.

I loooooooove your work. You're true genius. The toddler facial expressions in these pics are too good. And...don't you sort of feel like some people in SUITS turn into monsters? Too bad there's no one to toss those and put them in a trash bag.

seriously feel free to use that photograph of my daughter Aynsley. also her sister Evelyn wore the costume and I would fix it every year and every child in the neighborhood borrowed it. They all went a bit...nuts. http://www.flickr.com/photos/13496446@N04/10060075184/

I'm just happy a little girl was allowed to dress as a dinosaur. I am sick of seeing children's parties with the boys in various different costumes and then just thirteen Disney Princesses. And one little girl who's actually been allowed to chose her own non-gender specific costume. One awesome little girl.

Hahah! I love the frame of your mom's shadow looming over you in the kitchen. And the one of you drawing a picture (two-handed, awesome btw), and then all of a sudden the dinosaur starts to take over and it jerks your arm over to the other side of the page – Perfectly executed!

my costuming habits have continued through the years/decades. i get lost in the process of transformation, as well as the costume itself. i made myself a Xena costume at the age of 40 to be room mother for my kids. it may still be my favorite...

When my husband was a child his parents dressed him up as Oscar the Grouch. They got to the first house and he snatched at the basket of candy while growling "GIVE ME THE CANDY!" The promptly marched him back home and changed his costume all the while he was wailing "But I'm the Grouch! I'm the Grouch!" LOL

Alliesaurus, I love you like only another sugar munching dinosaur could love you!! You look adorable in your dinosaur suit and I'm sorry your parents crushed your dreams to rule the world...or at least the playground!!

Can't wait for your book to come out!! Thanks for this post...it should keep me going until then. In the meantime, I'm going looking for a suit of my own. RAWR!!!

I think you may understand this. I wasn't near my computer until a little after 5pm and when I saw on facebook that you had posted something I immediately became giddy, however I made myself wait because your posts have been so far between. I reasoned that waiting would make the next one come quicker. I couldn't wait any longer though and had to read it. I am quite proud of myself for making it almost an hour. Wonderfully funny post as usual.

As a teenager, I was only free in a costume. I was so, super shy, but when I wore a costume in public I could say things and do crazy things with no problem. My friend used to keep costumes in the back of her car (she was also a director). It was wonderfully freeing.

"The thing about being an unstoppable force is that you can really only enjoy the experience of being one when you have something to bash yourself against. You need to have things trying to stop you so that you can get a better sense of how fast you are going as you smash through them."

i'm pretty sure I just had a serious revelation about my life (at age 37, you know, like you do) after reading this single phrase.

YEAH!!!! As a science teacher, I can tell you that dinosaurs on sugar possess a ridiculous amount of power. And my chickens are the closest living relatives to T-Rex, so when they eat watermelon, they get drunk on the power!

I have a fabulously beautiful/trendy black, beaded tank top that is SO my dinosaur costume. That thing comes out of the closet and trouble is sure to follow. Full disclosure - I'm 42 and apparently never grew out of the "costumes are power" phase :-)

You are so lucky you grew out of it and were only under one costumes spell. I am over 40 and I still feel the power of being in another characters skin every time I dress up as something. Especially if my face is covered, then I usually act like a cracked out monkey and dry hump everyone I come in contact with.

I had one of those dime store costumes as a kid, just a random monster, with a spooky mask and a little jumpsuit. The jumpsuit had a picture on it that was so scary I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. It was like the Phantom of the Opera (the original one) with long stringy hair. I hung it in the back of my closet and I used to go in there and scare myself with it. Hehe, good times.

I check your blog everyday to see if you've posted anything new (super creepy, I know). There hadn't been anything in awhile, so today I was just kind of going through the motions of checking. The process was as follows:

1. Open blog in new tab2. Absentmindedly stare at blog3. Return to checking e-mail4. Pause mid e-mail5. Realize that there is definitely something different about the blog today6. Click back to blog tab7. Stare at blog again8. Stare a little more9. Register that there is a NEW BLOG POST!10. Smile11. Smile a lot12. Make a lot of non-human happy happy joy joy noises13. Read blog post14. Feel happy about life

You remind me so much of my youngest daughter, especially after reading "The God of Cake" the first time. This just further confirms it. I truly hope she grows up to be every bit as creative and hilarious as you are. So glad to see you back and feeling better!

Costumes are SERIOUS BUSINESS when you're a child. When you put on a costume, you are no longer the boring, inferior mortal you once were; you are something else entirely. You are a GOD.In my church's Christmas Paegent when I was maybe 3 years old, I played a shepherd, so I decided immediately that I was GROUCHY shepherd. It was part of my character to be surly, angry and mean to EVERYONE; I don't remember why, but this was an important artistic choice I felt had to be made.

Later in my youth the local Children's museum had a gigantic crawling maze modeled after an anthill, complete with little ant costumes you could put on. Being obsessed with ants and a self proclaimed expert on them thanks to the Magic Schoolbus, I committed myself fully to becoming an ant, carrying food and young about the maze, offering to sell other "ants" special ant pheromones (you know, so I wouldn't have to attack them,) etc. I think my parents had to tell me to tone it down.

RAAAWWWWWWRR! The power has been inside of you all along. (Anyone who can capture the sitting-on-the-floor-looking-up-at-her-mom child's perspective by drawing a stick figure portrait of her mom's face is made of awesome.)

I have a chameleon onesie that renders me virtually invisible. Thankfully, no one can take it away from me. Not because I'm a grown-up, but because you can't confiscate something you can't see. It's science.